


Murder Letters

by Wasted_Shadows



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Evil Hermann, M/M, Murder, Newt is an actual human biologist, cute letters, idk how to tag these things, newmann - Freeform, newtmann, sorta murder husbands, victorian gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-08 00:43:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasted_Shadows/pseuds/Wasted_Shadows





	Murder Letters

The morning routine. A fresh pot of tea, two slices of bread, slightly toasted, a sweet orange, and the daily paper. It was the same every morning. Doctor Gottlieb would spend a pleasant hour enjoying his breakfast, reading carefully the current affairs of his beloved English city. London, 1852. It was on that particular day that something extraordinary appeared in the paper. A tiny advertisement towards the back of the paper which reminded Doctor Gottlieb of a pastime he thought he had left behind.

** Royal College of Surgeons research fellow Doctor Newton Geiszler requests donations of anatomical samples the enhancement of scientific knowledge. All donations must be available to ship to Berlin. **

He smiled to himself, glossing over the fond memories as his eyes scanned the print repeatedly. Carefully taking note of the postal address, Doctor Gottlieb folded the newspaper under his arm and rose from his chair, his bony hand clutching the head of his cane for aid. He took off towards his writing desk, intent on writing a reply which would get him back into the underground business which he had so fondly missed.

_ Doctor Geiszler _

_ I have reason to believe you published an article in The Times requesting the donation of body parts to yourself in Berlin. I am a mathematician and physicist at the Royal Society of London and I do believe that I may be of assistance to your endeavour. I have abundant acquaintances from the scientific community from whom I am able to acquire resources. Please provide me with an indication of the type of material you specifically require, and I shall deliver.   _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Doctor H. Gottlieb   _

*

Doctor Gottlieb checked his mail with anticipation each day thereafter. It was two weeks before he received a reply, but to him it was good news.

_ Dr Gottlieb _

_ Thank you for your response and kind generosity. I require several internal organs including a heart, stomach and liver, as well as a hand with tendons intact. Please deliver them to the given address on the back of this parchment. I eagerly wait for your response. _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_Dr Newt Geiszler_  

Doctor Gottlieb squinted through his reading spectacles at the slightly stained letter in his hand. The words were barely legible, but they gave giving him all he need. Once he had decoded the scruffy scrawl, he set to work making preparations for his first night in almost six years in which he would once again feel the rush in his veins, the thrill of the chase, the taste of blood on his lips. Hermann Gottlieb was out to kill.

*

The dusk sky burned bright oranges, reds, pinks; throwing a fiery haze over the smog filled streets of London. Doctor Gottlieb had set out from his home, moving swiftly despite the pain he felt in his leg. He was dressed in all black, his cloak wrapping him tight against the chill, and his shoes polished, pointed, perfection. Clutched in his spare hand, the handles of a black leather doctors bag, filled with various sized jars containing ethanol for immediate packaging.

Hermann was on the prowl for his first victim. Despite not pursuing the hunt for so long, everything came back to him naturally. The way he would drift through the streets, unseen and unheard. He had mastered the placement of his cane on the cobbled stones, preventing the faint tap with each stride. He stalked the backstreets until he had found the perfect victim, an easy target to ensure he would get it right. After all, six years without blood is a long time to catch up on, and although Doctor Gottlieb was confident, he did not want to take any chances.

Finally, his eyes latched onto the victim of his return. A street vagrant, hastily scurrying through the streets, eyes seemingly alert, but his clothes torn and soiled. Doctor Gottlieb could not make out his age as he passed the side street in which he was hidden in shadow, but the moment he passed, Hermann stepped silently from the dark. He drew his cane up slightly from the ground and pressed his thumb into a button below the handle. The mechanics inside sprung into action and from the tip a sharpened blade was revealed with a click. The click was enough to catch the beggar’s attention, but Doctor Gottlieb was swift. He struck out before his victim could turn, stabbing him between the shoulder blades in one clean blow and exerting enough force to send him falling to his face.

The man let out a scream as he hit the cobbles with his face, not having time to get up and run before a shoe was placed on his back. Hermann delicately removed the blade and pressed down on the wound with his toes, watching the crimson pool around the polished leather. His victim tried to squirm, but Doctor Gottlieb was much faster. Curling the filthy strands of the vagrant’s hair between his bony fingers, Hermann pulled back the face of the man he was about to kill, instilling the image of his face in the his last dying thought. The man’s eyes were filled with fear, but Hermann had no time for pity. With a single, elegant movement Doctor Gottlieb produced another dagger from his sleeve and slashed the man’s throat, cutting through his arteries as if they were merely butter for his toast. Choking on his last breath, the victim eventually slumped in his grip. Hermann let the strands of hair fall from his fingers and set about making hasty work on the vital specimens which the intriguing Doctor Geiszler had requested.

*

_ Dear Dr Gottlieb _

_ Thank you so much for your kind donations which arrived in perfect condition. I have used them to develop a deeper personal understanding of the internal workings of the human body. The liver was unfortunately not of a healthy quality, so I have had to discard it, however, the other specimen which you have sent were exceptional. I would love to remain in correspondence with you, especially as I still have many other specimen requirements. If you do choose to write back to me, I would definitely appreciate it if you could send me more specimens. I require another liver, a healthy one, as well as several other organs listed below. _

_ Thank you again for your generosity and I hope to hear from you again. _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Dr Newt Geiszler _

_ Required specimen: _

Healthy liver  
_ Female reproductive system – all parts _  
_ Two male reproductive systems – mature and immature if possible _  
_ Feet - containing all skeletal elements intact   _  
Several eyeballs – different coloured iris es

The stained paper lay open on the dinning table of Doctor Gottlieb’s home, atop a newspaper from several weeks previous, the corners of which were beginning to fold and crease from the continuous attention it had received.  

** Mutilated corpse found in London backstreet **

** Sources can confirm that the body of a currently unidentified man has been found in the backstreets of the city. The body, thought to belong to a 35-year-old male, has had all its internal organs surgically removed. Additionally, both hands had been severed. It is unclear whether the motive behind this attack, but police are appealing for witnesses.   **

Hermann took immense pleasure in knowing that his first return kill has made headline news. Whilst dissecting his prize he knew to take more than was needed; a carefully organized ploy to steer the unsuspecting Berlin doctor from suspicion. He couldn’t lead his new acquaintance to believe that he was delivering freshly slain parts now, could he.

Doctor Gottlieb had hoped that, upon the arrival of the specimens in Berlin, Doctor Geiszler would reply, and too his delight his hopes had been answered. Hermann had another opportunity to hunt, this time for a much bigger and better kill.

He held the head of his cane tightly within his gloved fingers and he took the last sips of tea from his china teacup. He was dressed in his regular hunt attire and was just refreshing himself before departing. The sun would set soon, and Hermann had no time to waste.

Tasting the last dregs of tea, he placed down the teacup next to the newspaper and carefully folded Doctor Geiszler’s letter before pocketing it and turning for the door. With the faint tap of the cane on the stone floor of his home, Doctor Gottlieb was away, whisked into the dawning twilight. He moved swiftly, dancing almost poetically through the quiet evening streets, looking for his first victim. He had an agenda to uphold, and Doctor Gottlieb had no time to waste.

*

It was not long before the first victim of the eccentric mathematician’s devilish scheme came into sight. A short woman scurried by, the train of her dress sweeping along the dry, dusty cobbles and the delicate ribbons of her bonnet trailing effortlessly as she went. Hermann carefully studied her movements for a moment, watching, judging, calculating. The woman smiled as she went, carrying a loaf of bread wrapped brown paper; she was probably on her way home to meet with her husband, to cook her family a delightful supper, to spend the evening around loved ones. Unfortunately for her, that would never come about. Doctor Gottlieb had made his decision. Swifter than a stag Hermann leapt from his hiding spot into the gaslight of the Victorian street. The woman’s shrieks were muffled by the sharp blade of Hermann’s cane as it was forced through her heart. She stopped dead, dropping the bread package before taking several pained steps backwards and collapsing in the street filth, a small lake of blood beginning to mix itself with the waste of other poor souls. Doctor Gottlieb made quick work of her. He stuffed a single black handkerchief in her mouth to stop her screams as he began to cut her open. Alive.    

Taking all that he needed, the Doctor removed the now blood-stained handkerchief from the woman’s mouth, her dying breath going with it. But Hermann had no time to dwell around the scene. He still had many more specimens to collect before the night was done.

Using the edge of a cobble beside the woman’s still face, Doctor Gottlieb folding the blade of his cane back into the protective shaft before he was away, disappearing into the night to complete his tasks set by the aberrant Doctor Geiszler.  

*

** Three bodies mutilated in murderous rampage. Is this return of the ripper? **

** Three bodies have been discovered in close proximity to one other. The attacks were carried out during the night and claimed the lives of Mary Smith, Reverend Watson Moore, and 12-year-old Richard Johnson. All three victims have been found to be missing all vital internal organs. Mary Smith was also found to be missing both hands and feet, while the eyes of Richard Johnson and Reverend Watson Moore have been gauged out. **

**These attacks come just weeks after the first mutilated body, a Mr Alfred Shaw, was found by William Bennet. Some are beginning to say that this may be the return of the ‘ripper’ who haunted the streets of London just over six years ago. Others are saying that the attacks are not like those previously, and instead reflect a new threat. Police have corned off the scenes of the attacks and are now appealing for any witnesses in hopes of catching this cold-hearted killer. But whatever happens, the streets of London are no longer safe from this murderous threat which stalks at night.**  

*

Several months passed and the correspondence between Doctor Gottlieb and Doctor Geiszler blossomed. Their letters became passionate as they shared insight into their work, each becoming increasingly fascinated by the other. It was Doctor Gottlieb who first realised that he had feelings for the peculiar Doctor Geiszler; he wasn’t sure if it was the thrill of the kill which supplied Doctor Geiszler’s demands, or whether he had in fact, started to adore every unkempt word that the Berlin Doctor would write.

The two agreed to send one another a photograph of themselves. Although Doctor Gottlieb had provided Doctor Geiszler with a photograph that elegantly displayed his features, he received back a grainy snapshot of his correspondent. Doctor Geiszler’s features were obscured by the poor quality and although he did not admit to himself, Doctor Gottlieb was disappointed that he could not perfectly see the man whom he had become so deeply dependent.

_ Dear Hermann _

_ I cannot begin to explain my regret that this is the only photograph of myself I am able to send to you. I know that you will find it hard to see me, but I hope that you can forgive me. Please do not be too disappointed in me as I bring good news. I am making the effort to visit London in the coming weeks in order to give a presentation at the Royal College of Surgeons and I would be delighted if you could attend along side me. Your donations and dedication over the last months have been an essential lifeline in my research, and your communication and gentle words have brought me nothing but pleasure. I hope to hear that you are equally as delighted as I about the prospect of us finally meeting, and that we can arrange to meet prior to my presentation. _

_ All my love. _

_ Newton _

The words of the affixed letter filled Doctor Gottlieb with an immense pleasure. He felt his breath catch in his throat as his heart swelled with adoration. Hermann could hardly believe the scrawl; was he really going to meet the man he had become so close to, the one he felt he already knew? He quickly took off to his study to pen a reply but found it difficult to express the sheer excitement he felt within his core. Inside Doctor Gottlieb ached for the coming weeks to fly past so that he could be with the man who had stolen his heart, in a way that Hermann was not familiar with.

_ My dearest Newton _

_ I would be delighted to accompany you to the conference. My heart has been filled with ecstasy at the thought of finally being able to experience you in the flesh. I shall hold that feeling dear in the coming weeks as I anticipate your arrival. I would be most grateful if you could write to me when you arrive in London; then we shall be able to organise our first meeting. Until then I shall keep your photograph close to my heart. _

_ With my purest love, _

_ Hermann   _

*

The soft tinkling of the doorbell interrupted Hermann’s breakfast. He looked up from his newspaper, the rim of his teacup still touching his lips as the bell rung again. With a forgiving sigh Doctor Gottlieb placed down his morning read and took to his feet, his cane aiding him with every step to the door. Hermann unlocked the door and for a brief moment could see no one, before a young, thick voice spoke from below. “Letter for Doctor Gottlieb, sir.”

Hermann raised an eyebrow in surprise and took the letter from the boy, a scrawny lad no older than 14 years. The boy held out his hand for a shilling, but Doctor Gottlieb had other plans. He peeled back the envelope to reveal the familiar handwriting of Doctor Geiszler.

_ Dear Hermann _

_ I have arrived safely in London. Your city still amazes me like it did the first time I arrived here, so many years ago now. I have lived here, studied here, but never loved here. Until now. I reside at the King’s Court Hotel which is where I will be staying for the next three nights. I would truly be honoured if you could meet me tomorrow so that we may get to know each other a little better before the conference. _

_ All my love _

_ Newton _

Hermann looked up from the letter at the boy who still waited for his payment. “Allow me a moment, my good lad,” Doctor Gottlieb spoke softly as his disappeared back inside, limping to his writing desk with a surprising spring in his step. He took a fresh piece of parchment and penned a short, tender reply.

_ My dearest Newton _

_ I could not think of anything more perfect. I shall be counting down the hours before the sun rises at dawn; I await the moment that I may admire you as if my life depends on it. _

_ With my purest love, _

_Hermann_  

Doctor Gottlieb returned to the boy and handed him the affectionate reply, along with a single red rose from which he had prised from the vase on his dining table. “Return this to Doctor Geiszler,” he ordered, paying the boy for his services. “Yes sir!” The boy exclaimed, pocketing his change and bounding off out of sight.

Hermann smiled to himself as he returned inside, the feeling of love blossoming in every chasm of his body.  He wanted to make an impression, and he knew just the kind of gift the eccentric medical Doctor would admire.

*

Twilight had fallen as Doctor Gottlieb took to the night. His feet traced the streets of London, taking him absentmindedly close to the location of the King’s Court Hotel. Perhaps his heart was guiding his feet in hopes of running into his precious doctor.

_No_. Hermann reminded himself.  _You mustn’t allow yourself to be seen by him. Not tonight. Not like this_. For Doctor Gottlieb was out on a hunt, and he intended to bring Doctor Geiszler the prize.  

Hermann lurked in the shadows for many hours, stalking the streets in search of his perfect victim, before he saw him. An outlandish man, distastefully clad in disgustingly bright colours which would put a peacock to shame. The man was short, slightly rounded, but Hermann could not make out his face through the blinding display of colour.

He wore a queer yellow silk waistcoat, embroidered with fine green and fiery orange threads, a single button missing, beneath a crimson velvet jacket with a plush fur lined lapel. The thin tie he wore was poorly knotted and hung beneath his shirt in an almost offensive manner. A top of his head, a top hat perched, brimmed with feathers, depicting more yellows, greens, and oranges.

Doctor Gottlieb had never seen such a repealing sight and he knew that if he did not kill this man, the sight of him would haunt him for days. He followed the man as he strutted through several streets, the man’s outrageous confidence only fuelling Hermann’s gruesome taste for blood. With every passer, the man would greet them delightfully, his voice loud and uncomfortably shrill.  

Eventually Doctor Gottlieb managed to track the man to a quieter part of town. He seemed unnerved in the darkness, an unfamiliar environment for the poor offensive sight. Hermann would relieve his fear soon.

Silently stepping into the shadows Hermann clicked out the blade from his cane and waited for the man to scurry past. With every footstep the man on the cold cobbles, Doctor Gottlieb could taste the blood of the kill until the moment was upon him. Leaping from his hide, Hermann pierced his cane through the man’s jacket as scampered past. The man screamed, a deafening, piercing noise which shivered through every bone in Hermann’s body.

Falling to the floor, the man’s hat rolled from his head, revealing a head of scruffy, brown locks. Hermann kicked the hat aside with his good leg before descending on his victim. He was adamant to deliver a gift to Doctor Geiszler. The perfect heart, a gesture of his romantic, and murderous nature. But Hermann was not prepared for the next moments which would shatter his life like a dropped jar on the dirty London streets.

The man lay writhing in the filth as Doctor Gottlieb knelt beside him, knife in hand and ready to make the first incision. But something made him stop. A single red rose was tucked into the pocket of the waistcoat, its petals looking haunting familiar. Hermann looked up at the face of the man and the realisation hit him. He had the same chubby cheeks, the same smudged eyeglasses. Although the photograph had been grainy, Hermann could see the resemblance as if It were a reflection in a mirror.

The man’s eyes widened in horror as he took in the sharp features of Doctor Gottlieb’s face. Through the blood pulsing from his lips he managed to whisper a single word…a single name…which devastated Doctor Gottlieb’s life.

“…..H…Hermann?”

Hermann could feel his entire world crumbling as blood began to pool around his shoes. He sat there in shock for a few moments as the life began to fade from the eyes of the man he had grown to love. Hermann felt tears begin to trickle down his face as the man became weaker. Leaning forward he placed the gentlest kiss atop his head as death took his soul.

“I’m so sorry…Newton…”

*

The morning routine. No longer upheld. The dining room lay empty; the owner of the home, nowhere to be seen. Roses wilted in a vase upon the dining table, their fading petals falling solemnly onto an untouched newspaper. A shadow of mourning had choked room.  

** Royal College of Surgeons fellow Doctor Geiszler murdered on London street **


End file.
